


Disguise

by IShouldBeWriting



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Being Ageless, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Introspection, Pomp & Circumstance, Ritual, tradition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:59:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBeWriting/pseuds/IShouldBeWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A much younger Evony, before she becomes the Morrigan, muses on Fae tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disguise

All of us - we of the _daoine_ \- have our disguises. The ones we wear to move unnoticed through the human world. The ones we wear to hide our interests and our intentions. The ones we wear to protect our vulnerabilities, both from the humans and each other.

Its been six days since the longest day of the year.Six days since Dumuzi was killed in effigy. Six days of high ritual and stuffy ancient pomp. Six days since the beginning of the cycle which will culminate at this time next summer. Six days since the current Morrigan and Ash began serving their death sentences.

We who are feared, whispered about as gods ourselves by the humans, will treat them as gods. For the next three hundred and fifty eight days, whatever they ask of us, their will be done. For in one year's time, they are both to be offered up. They will both have the honor - how laughable that sounds - of becoming the embodiment of Inanna and Damuzi, completing the ancient rite of sacrifice. In thanks for their service, for having kept us alive and hidden from the world of humans for five long centuries, these powerful, conniving souls will give their lives. They will do it to keep the balance of peace and power between the clans. They will do it to renew us all. They will do it because they are both so very tired of having to keep us from each other's throats.

Finally today we can be ourselves again. Or at least, as much ourselves as we can ever afford to let another of the Fae truly see. How terribly appropriate it is that today we all wear masks. I can't be the only one for whom that small detail bears a tang as bitter as the iron we are so erroneously famous for abhorring.

And yet here we are, light and dark swirling together in false gaiety as unnatural as these rituals in which we indulge. Today we are like a maelstrom, full of noise, electricity, and nervous energy.

Electricity. I suppose that's one improvement we've managed to achieve over the millenia. One tiny fragment of barbarity less since the age of Tammuz and Ishtar. Of Erishkigal. And what of her, that dark sister lost to all but the most learned of scholars? Yet again we've kept part of the story and forgotten to consider the whole. Why is that?

Perhaps Yeats or Burns, those candles so brightly inspired, could have told me. Sadly, at the time when I met them both, I was still too young to have cared. Perhaps they wrote about it? I suppose that later I shall have to go find out. If for no other reason that to satisfy myself that the energy I spent on them was worth the while.

At least we have the luxury of air conditioning and other modern human conveniences to save us from the insufferable heat of yet another a sweltering Vancouver summer.


End file.
